The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. Burn your palette and your easel. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. “I want an engagement.
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